


Turned Around and Inside Out

by cypheroftyr



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M, tw: mentions of past abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2014-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-18 12:24:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2348336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cypheroftyr/pseuds/cypheroftyr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fenris opens up to Anders and learns that maybe he was wrong about the apostate. A fic inspired by a Fenders fanmix for the 2014 Dragon Age Reverse Big Bang.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turned Around and Inside Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [imadra_blue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imadra_blue/gifts).



> A Fenders piece set to a [Fendrs fanmix](http://8tracks.com/imadra-blue/does-it-always-have-to-be) by the lovely [imadra-blue](http://imadra-blue.tumblr.com).

The fight against the Bone Pit dragon was harder than any of them had expected. Even with Anders there to heal them, and lay down elemental spells; no one had come out unscathed. Fenris had burns where his armor left his arms exposed all the way down to his palms; which left him in agony; Hawke had sprained her ankle during the fight, Sebastian’s armor was more red than white from his injuries; and Isabela had a mottle of bruises along her back and thighs from being thrown to the ground.

The fight had also made it clear that while they fought well together, even Hawke and her band of misfits weren’t immortal. Anders was exhausted from healing for the last few hours; his steps were unsteady as they made their way out of the cavern and into the moonlight. 

“Hawke, the next time you want to go haring off after a fully grown dragon, leave us at home,” Anders mumbled as he sat on the first patch of sand he found. “Even my aches have aches.” 

“At least you will be fine after a good night’s sleep. I won’t be able to do anything for a couple of weeks,” Fenris grunted. He tried to lower himself to a nearby crate without using his hands.

“If you’d let me heal you, you wouldn’t have to contort yourself just to lie down,” Anders said. “Give me a few hours and I can look at your injuries. If you need help right now, I can bandage you.” 

Fenris hissed as he tried to slide down onto a crate. He looked at how his arms were reddened, and in a few spots blistered from the fire. “Very well, I would accept your assistance.” 

“Give me a moment. Anyone else need help?” Anders called out as he got to his feet and headed over to the elf. There were no clear answers, just a chorus of groans and hisses; so the mage left them to their own devices.

Fenris winced when he felt the other man’s touch. He looked away, eyes closed and pain marred his features.

“I’m sorry, Fenris, this is going to hurt a bit,” Anders said quietly as he tried to peel away the elf’s armor. He waited as Fenris reached up to unsnap his decorative spaulders so his upper arm was exposed to the healer.

“Just...get on with it, the sooner you get those burns dressed, the sooner I can try to sleep,” Fenris replied softly, pain made him less likely to snap at the other man. He was close to passing out if he was honest with himself, but he couldn’t admit it. 

Anders held his tongue and tended to the elf, his hands quick but gentle as he tipped his canteen down to wash the dust and dirt off, so he could loosely wrap Fenris’ arms and help him lie down on a spare cloak he kept in his pack. 

“There, that will hold you until I can restore some mana.” Anders pulled a healing potion from his belt pouch and held it up to Fenris’ mouth. “Open...please.”

Fenris did as he was asked, with no backtalk. Once the potion was gone, he stretched out on his back and watched until Anders moved from him. 

Hawke and the others made camp quickly and soon a fire was going, a simple stew made from rations bubbled away, and they all took watches except for Fenris, once he’d been left alone, he’d slept straight on till the sun rose over their hastily thrown together camp.

Hawke nudged at Fenris gently, mindful of his injuries and less than stellar disposition upon first waking.

“Come on, sleepyhead; let Anders see to you so we can be on our way. You’re the last one up.” She sounded far too chipper for someone who had nearly been dragon chow the day before.

“Stop yelling, Hawke,” Fenris slurred as he sat up to find Anders at his side and ready to heal him. 

“Morning...how do you feel?” Anders asked as he waited for Fenris to allow him to get started. The apostate had had too many times where he’d tried to help Fenris and had nearly lost a hand for his trouble.

“Like a dragon used me for a toothbrush.” Fenris held his arm up in anticipation of being healed. “Go on, I’m ready.”

“I’m not going to hurt you more for Maker’s sake,” Anders murmured as he unwrapped the bandages and held his hands over the elf’s skin, careful not to touch as he let his magic sweep through skin and muscle, healing the damage of the previous day’s fight. He made sure not to pull on the brands that curved along Fenris’ body with his magic. 

For all that he hated the feel of magical healing; Fenris was able to see how careful the mage was with him, how he made sure not to touch him as he worked. Once Anders pulled back, he flexed his arms, glad for once to be healed by the former warden. 

“Thank you,” Fenris said before he rose to find breakfast before they set out. 

Anders eyes widened in surprise, more from the fact the elf had thanked him rather than growled at him and stalked off as he usually did after being healed. “Welcome…” he said a few beats after Fenris had left him. The warrior’s odd behavior stayed with him as he bundled the empty potion bottles to be washed and reused. He didn’t say anything as they parted ways, his mind stuck on the elf’s change in demeanor towards him.

The others hadn’t notice any change in the healer or fighter, they had been too preoccupied with getting back home for some much needed rest or to their duties. Sebastian had grumbled all the way back about the state of his armor, and that the Grand Cleric was going to have his head for missing morning prayers. 

Isabela for her part had gone straight to the Hanged Man, her demeanor quiet as she made her way to her room, pulled enough weapons off to sleep comfortably, and then fell over to catch up on rest. 

Varric was hard at work on elaborating one of Hawke’s adventures in lieu of another Merchant’s Guild meeting. He hated them with a passion he usually reserved for good drink and tending to Bianca. He’d noticed the pirate’s return but figured if she didn’t bother with sticking her head in to say hello; maybe join him for a drink that she needed the sleep. There was always card night to get details about Marian’s latest venture.

Hawke had gone home to a hot bath, a clean robe and a late lunch before she settled in to reply to the pile of letters, invitations to balls and parties that seemed to triple the moment she stepped away from her desk. She felt fine thanks to Anders’ healing, but she had the urge to remain hidden behind scrolls, ink and the comfort of home for a few days.

**

With Hawke being quiet and staying to herself for the next week or so; the rest of the crew went about their usual routines with the exception of Anders.

A week later, he was still puzzled by Fenris’ reaction to being healed. He was so deep in thought about it; he missed a step as he went up to Varric’s suite at the Hanged Man for card night.

“Careful, mage, if you break your neck none of us can heal you,” Fenris said as he righted the other man, but dropped his grip quickly as if he’d forgotten he didn’t like Anders.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were concerned, Fenris,” Anders replied as he noted how much better the elf looked. “You look well, glad I could help you out.”

Fenris looked discomfited by the attention, and nodded his head quickly then headed into Varric’s suite. He sat his weapon on the rack, got comfortable next to Isabela sure he was done with being embarrassed for the night, but he was wrong.

By the time Anders got upstairs, the only seat left open was between Fenris and Sebastian. It wasn’t his ideal spot, but it was that or wait until someone got too sloshed to remain in the game. He shucked his coat before he sat down, glad to be free of the heavy leather, chain and feathered capelet.

Isabela’s whistle caught him off guard as he peered at the cards in his hand. “What was that for?”

“You clean up good, Sparklefingers, Got a hot date after cards?” the pirate teased him as she tried to lean over and peek at Fenris’ hand.

“Stop that, woman; you’re practically in my lap as it is. We all know you cheat so stop trying to be subtle.” Fenris turned away and wound up pressed further against the mage. “I am in the Void, aren’t I?”

“If you are, then so am I,” Anders muttered in reply before he glanced at Isabela. 

“No, I don’t have a date. I was tired of the same raggedy tunic and pants, and it’s washing night. I do have decent clothes you know, I just don’t wear them often since Hawke drags us halfway to the Vimmark mountains every few days. Now if our esteemed leader would get this night started, I’ll just guard what little coin I have from you,” Anders said.

“Hmmph, a girl can’t even give a compliment with you two. Fenris gets his ears in a knot when I try to guess the colour of his smalls, you get irritated when I say you look nice, Merrill just pretends she has no clue what I mean when I say dirty things. It’s tiresome really.” Isabela winked at Hawke as the game got underway.

“Just another rowdy night of Diamondback, ale and everyone pretending to get along, fabulous,” Hawke muttered as she stared at her own miserable hand. 

“I’m not pretending, Hawke,” Fenris muttered as he tried to figure out what he had in his hand. While he’d learned to read, the rules for Diamondback were more convoluted than Tevinter politics.

“Nor am I, I’m glad I’m still here to enjoy the company of friends,” Sebastian said as he slipped past Hawke with a half-full glass of wine and a sheaf of letters to read. 

“Aren’t you going to play?” Hawke asked hopefully.

“Once someone drops out, I’ll join in. Reading these along with a nice bit of drink was better than sitting alone in my room tonight. Don’t mind me; I’ll just wait my turn.” Sebastian settled in and quickly became involved in his correspondence, but chimed in when he was mentioned.

**

The night went on with only a few cries of protest from Hawke when she caught Isabela trying to use a card slipped from her boot or belt. Anders had folded early in the night. He watched Sebastian smooth talk the others with an easy smile, and the occasional casual touch to whoever he spoke to, even Fenris.

The flash of anger that went through Anders made him pause. Fenris didn’t even like him that much, and he didn’t care if someone else enjoyed the elf’s company, did he? The thought he might be jealous of Sebastian Vael, of all people, made Anders kind of sick to his stomach. He got up with the intent of leaving before his mouth got the better of him. 

Anders less than graceful attempt at leaving made everyone turn their attention to him when all he’d wanted was to flee. “Fine, I’m fine I just think it’s time for rebel wardens to go to bed. Go on back to your fun; I’m just going to go.” Anders skirted around the table to get his staff and hopefully leave with some dignity, but when did he ever get his way?

“Mage...Anders, wait a moment,” Fenris said as he got away from the lay brother. “Good night all,” he said with an awkward look at the Starkhaven rogue. “I should leave as well, wait for me.” 

“Uh, alright,” Anders said as he watched Fenris almost run to greet him before they left the Hanged Man. “You look… strained.”

Fenris waited until they were half way towards his mansion to speak. “I do not like people touching me, and Sebastian was getting a bit...casual as the night went on. I did not wish to break his arm; we do need his bow on occasion.”

“Next time, tell him or just break his arm. It might do him good to know he can’t do as he pleases without consequence,” Anders muttered as they walked, his expression changed to one of confusion as they stopped at Fenris’ door. 

The elven fighter noticed his expression then turned to notice he was home, and they’d just come their automatically. “Apologies, I should have walked you to the lift first. It is late; do you wish to rest here instead?” Fenris asked.

“What? You’d let me… stay here?” the mage asked in surprise.

“It is too far for you to get back to the clinic, there are templars patrolling the streets, and I wished to speak with you since our last encounter.” Fenris looked at him through the fall of his bangs, expression calm despite how he felt.

“Ah, sure if it’s alright. I wouldn’t want to impose.” Anders hesitated, surprised at the elf’s offer and sure he had to be imagining the slight twitch of Fenris’ fingers, and the way he held himself back, one of the slight tells he was nervous.

“It’s not an imposition if I have offered you respite. Come in, it’s late and I would speak with you before we rest.” Fenris opened the door without waiting for the mage to follow. He smiled to himself when he heard the other man’s footsteps behind him. “Lock the door; I’ll be in the kitchen.” 

“Alright.” Anders fumbled with the latches before he made his way towards the dim candlelight. He stood in the doorway, unsure about his host and confused by Fenris’ change towards him. “Can I be of help?” 

“No, sit down. I was just getting water to offset the drink before we sleep. You’re a healer; you know better than others the importance of taking in water after wine.” Fenris sat a pitcher of cold water, cups and a small board of cheese and sausage down between them. “You look confuse, and worried. I will not harm you, Anders, not after you took such care with healing me.”

Anders sat still, wary of what Fenris could have to say to him. When the elven fighter remained silent, he asked what was on the other man’s mind. “So….you said you wanted to talk?”

“Yes, I have been thinking over the last few days about ...about how you took such care with healing me. Normally you are not as concerned with my comfort, why?” Fenris asked.

“You were hurting already, and I’ve noticed the last few times I’ve healed you that you flinched, like you expected it to hurt.” the mage sipped his water, glad that Fenris had thought of it so they wouldn’t have hangovers in the morning.

“I did, it often happened when I was stupid enough to get hurt and ruin his investment. Sometimes it was easier to suffer through the pain.” Fenris coughed as he realized how much he’d opened up without meaning to. 

“It’s late, I’m off to sleep. You may join me since it is a large bed and we should not wind up...together unless you move about in the night.” Fenris set his glass on the counter, eager to quit the conversation he’d begun.

“I’ll sleep down here by the fireplace. I...sometimes have nightmares that would wake you. If you ever want to speak about things again, you know where to find me.” Anders stretched out his back with a tired groan. “I’ll let myself out when I wake up, thank you for letting me stay tonight.” 

“It is no bother, I detained you after all. Rest well.” Fenris headed up to his room, confused by the other man’s decision to sleep alone in the cold foyer rather than in a soft bed. Nightmares or no, he couldn’t help but think that proximity to him was the reason Anders would rather sleep in the cold and dark than with him. The elf locked his door, got into bed but sleep did not come until the sun had started to creep over the horizon.

Anders crept out at first light, a hastily penned note left for Fenris before he left for the clinic. His thoughts were soon occupied with patients both living and dying for the rest of the day, but the odd conversation wasn’t forgotten as he dug into his work

**

As the next few months passed, Fenris and Anders had more conversations, more wary talks late into the night, but also more touching and exploring of each other’s boundaries. They’d experimented with both taking the lead, simply lying there and talking while they shared stories; to wild nights where Fenris led and Anders followed happily with whatever the elf wanted of him.

Fenris wound up as the one comforting Anders after they’d broached the topic of his year in solitary confinement. The subject was shuffled aside after a long night of tears, anger and being held close in Fenris’ arms.

The elf had his own night of needing to be embraced, reminded he was safe, free and not about to be taken away by Danarius. He was still chased, but he had the protection of his friends. That was enough to soothe him, and let him slip to the Fade. 

The next time they wound up at the mansion, Fenris had picked up wine, a pot of poultry stew that was large enough to feed them for dinner and lunch the next day and a bag of apples. Anders had been charged with finding or making something to go with the stew and if possible, something sweet for them to enjoy. It had been almost six months since they’d began whatever they wanted to call the time they spent together. The elf wouldn’t admit it, but he wanted to acknowledge getting that far together

Anders entered with a basket over his arm, hair pulled back after being washed and newish clothes that a grateful patient had given him. He’d managed to barter for a couple of apple tarts and fresh bread from one family that he’d helped a few weeks back. It was nothing to give the Healer a bit of food, especially after he’d saved their son from the Chokedamp.

Anders entered, and called out so he wouldn’t startle the elf and wind up with a fist in his chest for his trouble. “Where are you Fenris?”

“In the kitchen, join me,” the warrior called out. He sat the rough stone plates down and had just poured wine when Anders entered.

“Looks good, what’s the occasion?” he asked as he set his parcels aside and let himself be shooed away from helping set the table.

“I just wanted to have a nice meal with you, and to, um...to…” Fenris mumbled the rest as he fidgeted with his meal.

“Just say it; we’ve not gotten this far by holding back Fenris. I won’t be upset.” Anders took a sip of his wine and watched as the elf fidgeted a bit more before he returned his gaze. 

“I wished to mark the sixth month since we became, whatever it is we want to call this thing between us. Lovers, I suppose?” Fenris looked up at the mage, uncertain at how Anders took his words.

The mage in question wasn’t upset, instead he looked rather pleased at the notion that Fenris wanted to mark their anniversary. “Lovers sounds good to me, and I’m happy to note that it’s been six months of getting to know each other. Let’s eat and retire early, I feel a sudden need for that comfortable bed and your company.” Anders grinned at him and had the nerve to wink at his lover before he dug into his meal.

“You might be in a hurry, but you’re the healer I can’t save you if you choke.” Fenris deadpanned before he tucked into his meal, his pace quicker than usual but not fast enough to give away his own eagerness. As soon as they were done, he put the extra food in the cold-box, took Anders hand in his and led them upstairs to his other surprise.

Fenris had gotten the roof fixed slowly, more for their comfort than the complaints Aveline had brought to his door about the state of the place. Winter was cruel in Kirkwall and he’d had enough of freezing while indoors. He’d also cleaned out the bedroom, straightened it up and even had put a weapon rack on the wall, along with hooks for cloaks, and invested in a wardrobe for the clothes Hawke constantly got him. He turned expectantly to Anders, hopeful his surprise went over well.

“The room looks good, is this why we couldn't’ sleep in here the last few weeks? You were doing this?” Anders grinned as he hung his coat up and let his staff rest in the bottom slot of the weapon rack. “It’s very nice, what made you decide to do this?”

“I...wanted it to be nice, for us.” Fenris replied as he skirted around Anders to light the fireplace. “If nothing else in this place was decent, I wanted this room to be our, refuge from everything outside. I cannot give you much, but I wanted to offer this as a gift.” 

Anders sat on the freshly made bed, his fingers trailed over the embroidery on the coverlet as he considered all Fenris had done to make the night special, yet he’d done nothing to mark their time together. “This is wonderful, but I have come empty handed and I have nothing to give you in return.” 

“You don’t need to give me anything; your continued presence has been a gift that I’ve never expected. I simply tried to do something we both can enjoy as we go on.” Fenris tugged his tunic off as he padded over to the bed to join his lover. 

“You’re overdressed for what else I’d planned for tonight.” the elf said as he tugged at Anders sleeve, eager to get him out of his clothes.

“You’ve got me at a disadvantage, so much work you’ve put into tonight and here I thought we were just having a lovely night in. Let me make it up to you.” Anders pulled his own clothing off and let it fall to the rug that had been laid since his last visit. 

“I’d hoped for a lovely night in, you’ve no need to make it up to me. Tonight let us be gentle with each other. No discussions of the past, nothing but this bed, us and no worries about what tomorrow will bring.” Fenris slipped of the rest of his clothes and turned the bed down so they could slide under the warm coverlet.

“That sounds like a perfect end to tonight...love.” Anders let the word trip off his tongue easily, but seemed to tense as he realized he’d said it out loud. 

“We’ll talk about that word later, for now I’m done speaking, at least with words.” Fenris nipped at his lower lip, wrapped himself around the tall, blond human and let his actions say all the things he couldn’t say out loud. Each gasp, moan and whisper of please, and more conveyed what Anders meant to him, even as he was pushed to new levels of joy with each kiss and touch to his skin. Each reverent whisper of his name as he took Anders made Fenris happy he’d taken a chance on giving the mage his heart. 

Anders enjoyed all that Fenris did to him, allowed the other man to take the lead in their pleasure. He was happy, eager to please his warrior, to give him more than just pleasure, yet he was in no hurry at all. Too soon for his liking, but well into the night, they’d fallen quiet, words shared easily as they let themselves come down, slow their breathing and slip into well earned rest.


End file.
